


The Explorer's Club

by pengiesama



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Believe It Or Not That Was a Tag Before I Made It One, Comeplay, Hammocks, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:23:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9735002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengiesama/pseuds/pengiesama
Summary: A transcription of the minutes of the Explorer's Club's latest meeting, in which its two founding members fuck in a clubhouse hammock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for an anonymous tumblr prompt, "PregameSorey going down on Mikleo?"

The Mabiongo Ruins were sprawling. They were mysterious. They were fascinating. They were only a short walk away from Elysia. All of this and more made them the hands-down best spot for a secret clubhouse.

Celebrating its tenth anniversary this year, the Explorer’s Club was a highly selective organization; having as it did only two members. Members of the Explorer’s Club enjoyed unlimited access to the Explorer’s Den; a cozy little nook in the Mabiongo Ruins, filled with enough books, snacks, and crafting supplies to entertain and support two (2) intrepid adventurers. The den was in better shape than some of the other rooms of the temple, and had been further secured against damp and crumbling rock by the efforts of the Explorer’s Club. Woven nets covered the less stable parts of the walls, and the rambling vines and roots that veined through the ruins coiled themselves into the twine, further securing the room against sudden shifts in the rock. A small spring burbled in the corner of the room, water pouring over aged and mossy brick from the temple drains, nurturing the growth of small white flowers that basked in the light filtering through the windows facing the mountainside. The spring was clear, cool, and deceptively deep. Clever application of seraphic artes purified the springwater to be used as a supply point for roaming adventurers, or to be used as an emergency measure when it was hot and roaming adventurers really needed to swim.

Safely away from the spring and the less stable bits of wall, a somewhat rickety handmade bookshelf housed a decade’s worth of notes and adventuring logs, of journals and books brought from clubmembers’ personal libraries. The nearby desks, stacked with ink and papers, were likewise handmade, as was the hammock strung up between the hardiest roots and vines. This hammock was where most official club business was discussed (despite there being an Official Explorer’s Club Meeting Floor at the center of the room, where the campfire pit had been dug), and was also a handy spot to nap after a long and grueling exploratory endeavor.

Which brings us to the current state of affairs in the Explorer’s Club: founding member Sorey, dozing away in the official club hammock. He yawned and blinked open his eyes, and sleepily curled a palm against the back of fellow founding member Mikleo; still asleep atop his chest. Mikleo’s cheek was squished against Sorey’s collarbone, and his bangs were mussed just enough for his circlet to glint in the late afternoon sunlight. Sorey smiled and pressed his lips to Mikleo’s forehead gently, curling his arms tighter around Mikleo’s body as he shifted in his sleep. The Official Club Hammock was great, but they’d been tangled and dumped out of it more times than Sorey could count due to careless movement. (Hence, the safety pile of blankets heaped beneath their cozy little perch in the vines.)

Thing is, Sorey had awakened in the mood for some careless movement, and Mikleo was making the situation more urgent with his cute sleepy mouth, soft little noises, and the way the crease of his thigh was firmly and perfectly slotted against Sorey’s morning (well, mid-afternoon) wood. Sorey kissed his forehead again, a little firmer this time, and, tilting Mikleo’s chin up with his finger, traced a line of adoring kisses from Mikleo’s temple, down the curve of his cheek, down the slope of his nose, and ending at his soft, drowsing lips. Sorey had always been more of a morning person, and loved being Mikleo’s wakeup call when he was allowed to use his lips to do it. He tugged Mikleo’s lower lip between his own to suck, and when Mikleo’s sleepy noises began to edge a little more on moans, Sorey slipped his tongue in to taste Mikleo’s sweet waking breaths.

(Mikleo always complained about Sorey’s morning breath. Rude.)

Mikleo gave a soft murmur of something that sounded like Sorey’s name. A bloom of warmth unfurled from Sorey’s heart and wove its way through his veins, so familiar and no less wondrous every time he felt it. Sorey drew back from Mikleo’s mouth and pressed his face to the soft, warm space where neck met shoulder, and breathed in his scent: summer rain, and the lavender that grew on the slopes. Sorey didn’t even realize he was squeezing Mikleo so tight until Mikleo gave a little squeak of complaint.

“Time to head back already? You could use a bath before we set out,” Mikleo said.

“Not yet,” Sorey said, idly exploring the skin of Mikleo’s neck with his lips. “C’mere.”

“I’m already--” Mikleo’s pedantic argument was cut off by a moan when Sorey’s teeth grazed a sensitive spot. Sorey was already at full mast, his hips rocking eagerly against the crease of Mikleo’s thigh. The sway of the hammock rolled with their movements. Mikleo shifted to tug his sleeping shorts up, exposing more soft pale skin, tugged Sorey’s cock up and out of his own sleeping clothes, and repositioned them both until Sorey’s cock was rubbing between his thighs.

Sorey moaned loud, and squeezed Mikleo just a little too tight again. The way Mikleo shivered against him and the way he arched against Sorey’s chest seemed to say he didn’t find it too unpleasant, though. Mikleo breathed into Sorey’s ear.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Sorey could barely choke out. His hands squeezed at Mikleo’s thighs, pressing them closer together to rub against his cock. “God, Mikleo, your skin is so soft, I can’t--”

Sorey’s own cock cut him off, then. Mikleo carefully sat up to inspect the damage, holding up the edges of his shorts to try and prevent further staining. Cum was smeared messily between his thighs, and was beginning to slowly drip down. Just above the mess, Mikleo’s hard cock peeked above the waistline of his underwear, just begging for Sorey’s attention. It was a plea that was hard to ignore, and so, Sorey didn’t.

Mikleo squawked and pitched forward as Sorey dragged him up by the hips to sit on his chest, yanking Mikleo’s shorts down one leg in an awkward thrash of limbs. The hammock pitched back and forth dangerously with the movement, and Mikleo flailed out his arms to grasp at the walls and the vines to steady them. He always was looking out for the both of them so Sorey could focus on the important things, like getting Mikleo’s cock in his mouth.

“Sorey! Be more careful, you’ll tip us both over, just like last--”

Mikleo trailed off again with another helpless moan as Sorey’s mouth engulfed him. God, he tasted so good. Sorey’s eyes slid shut blissfully as he swallowed him deep, relishing the way the muscles in Mikleo’s ass jumped and clenched under Sorey’s hands when Mikleo’s cock brushed the back of his throat. He opened his eyes again to enjoy the view above him: Mikleo, clutching desperately at the roots snaking along the walls to balance them. His violet eyes were clouded with need, and the flush coloring his cheeks spread down his neck and under the collar of his sleeping shirt. Sorey curled his lips around Mikleo’s cock, smiling up at him adoringly. The blush on Mikleo’s cheeks deepened, and he averted his gaze, his lips tugging down into a cute little pout.

Sorey’s eyes traced the bow-like curve of his lips with rapt attention. He really, really wanted him to suck on his fingers; to feel Mikleo’s tongue swirl between his digits and press like warm velvet against his calluses. But, that probably wouldn’t be the best thing for their balance at this point. Sorey had a solid Plan B to occupy his itchy fingers, though. He gave Mikleo’s ass one last solid squeeze with one hand, and moved to slick his fingers with the cum smeared on Mikleo’s thighs. His fingers traced a line of cum from Mikleo’s thigh, to the crease of his hip, behind his balls to rub gently at his perineum. Mikleo’s hips jerked forward; his whole body shivered when Sorey’s fingers traced his entrance. He pressed two fingers inside, working them in and out as he drew his mouth back to lap at Mikleo’s cock. Lips wrapped around the tip of his cock to suck, drinking in the taste of Mikleo’s skin just as he drank in the sounds of his gasps, and the heat of his body around his fingers.

Mikleo was close, already – he was squeezing so tight on his fingers, and his thighs were shaking so badly that Mikleo could barely keep the hammock from swaying. His hands clawed for purchase on the roots, and finally, one came down to tangle in Sorey’s hair. Sorey slid his fingers in to the knuckle, and curled them just a bit to rub against Mikleo’s sweet spot. Mikleo’s back arched, his whole body going rigid and then releasing in a flurry of shivers. Sorey continued to rub his fingers against that spot inside Mikleo to make sure he sucked him dry. Mikleo drew back abruptly, and swiped Sorey’s lips clean with his thumb.

“Open your mouth,” he murmured.

Sorey obeyed, showing him the cum pooled hot on his tongue and throat. Mikleo swiped the pad of his thumb against Sorey’s tongue to clean it.

“Alright. You can swallow now.”

Again, Sorey eagerly complied. Mikleo sighed, and carefully lowered himself down to rest on Sorey’s chest once more.

“You still need a bath,” Mikleo noted.

Then a vine came loose and dumped them both out of the Official Club Hammock. And lo, did the safety blanket pile come to the rescue once more.


End file.
